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FREEFALL

FT. CHRIS DAUGHTRY

BY STEPHEN WAYNE MALLETT
Rep: Laure Scott

THIS VIDEO WILL CHALLENGE VIEWERS TO SEE THE SILVER LININGS OF
SOUL-CRUSHING SITUATIONS.

LET’S REMIND THE WORLD THAT YOU CAN START AGAIN.

A small fishing boat glides into a quiet marina as the setting sun bathes the water in fiery orange. An ex-military man in his mid-30s, with unkempt hair and a weathered face, ties off his boat with trembling hands. His eyes, hollow and distant, linger on the rope as a quick, jarring flash shows the same rope twisted into a noose. He flinches, shaking the suicidal ideation to the best of his ability. As twilight descends, he walks toward a bar on the pier, his shoulders hunched and his boots dragging across the wooden planks. Inside, he sits in the corner nursing a drink, the world around him blurred as he sinks deeper into his thoughts. He looks down to a steak knife and the mental intention for potential self harm is chilling. Moments later, he pushes himself up and leaves, the bar’s neon sign flickering behind him.

Outside, the cool night air greets him as he steps onto the dimly lit street. A faint rustle catches his attention, and out of the corner of his eye, he spots a stray dog nosing through a trash bin. The dog freezes, its ribs visible beneath its matted fur, and stares at him with cautious eyes. The man pauses, then slowly retrieves a half-eaten sandwich from his pocket. He kneels, extending the food. The dog creeps forward, sniffing tentatively before snatching the sandwich and retreating. But instead of running, the dog lingers, its tail wagging faintly. The man sits on the curb, watching as the dog eats, a glimmer of warmth softening his hardened expression.

The man’s modest house is dimly lit, its sparse furnishings hinting at years of neglect. The dog now sits at his feet, its coat slightly cleaner and tail thumping against the worn floor. The two eat together—a simple meal shared in silence. The man is not a dog person - at first the dog is not allowed on the couch but as time passes they get closer and closer until we see the dog sleeping side by side with his new master. As days pass, their bond grows. The man begins jogging with the dog, shedding their collective weariness with every step. Quick cuts show the man shaving, his posture straightening, and the dog growing healthier, her eyes brighter.

The television flickers, showing scenes of floodwaters engulfing homes and streets in their small town. The man’s expression hardens with resolve. He grabs his gear, whistles for the dog, and they head for the marina. The dog, now strong and alert, leaps into the boat as the man starts the engine. Rain pours as they navigate through submerged neighborhoods. A first responder flags him down, their flashlight cutting through the gloom. Together, they rescue an elderly couple stranded on their porch, clutching a trembling small dog. As the man helps lift the couple aboard, his eyes meet the responder’s—steady and kind, with a spark of connection. They exchange a brief but meaningful glance before the moment pulls them back to action.

Time jumps, and the man is no longer alone. The responder, now his partner, smiles beside him in their yard as the dog chases an RC car, barking with pure joy. Quick shots capture their laughter, the man leaning on her shoulder, the dog sprawled on the grass between them. Their lives feel complete, bright, and whole—a trio bound by love and shared purpose.

It’s night, and the frantic couple cannot find the dog. They run toward the street, finding glowing lights and a truck parked on the roadside. The driver kneels on the pavement, their head in their hands, silhouetted by the flashing hazards. The man collapses beside the driver, his body wracked with silent devastation as he cradles his dog's lifeless form. The woman kneels beside him, her trembling hand on his back, both of them frozen in shared grief as the red lights flash over the scene.

The couple spread their friends ashes in private part of the river before docking at the Marina. Inside the bar the woman watches her man have a drink and her concern for his health manifests. She understands he needs to take the edge off, but she gently pulls him outside and notices a young man sitting in the same alley where our story began. The young man is a former soldier holding a bottle of whiskey at the end of his rope. The woman gently nudges her partner and gestures to help him. The man crouches down, his presence calm and steady. He grabs the young man's attention, who lifts his tear-streaked face, meeting the veteran's eyes. A faint glimmer of connection passes between them—a silent promise that he is not alone. The woman watches from a distance, her gaze softening as the cycle of love and service begins again. The man helps the younger version of his former self to his feet and they embrace.